Knighthood
by The Bluefire Phoenix
Summary: They say Batman is dead. That he died four years ago at the hands of the Russian Mob. I never believed those rumors. He's out there somewhere, I know it. Gotham needs its hero back and I will track him down across continents and through the depths of hell if I have to. Criminals beware, the Dark Knight will return!
1. Chapter 1

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

An _Operation Dusk Hour_ Tale...

_Knighthood_

Chapter I: Next of Kin

My name...

My name is...

My name is John Blake and I remember the night Batman disappeared. Not many people left who care about that night five long years ago anymore. Five years of darkness at the hands of criminals. The Dent Act died on the floor, no one bothered to defend it. Not after so many supporters met violent ends at the hands of thugs. The power vacuum was filled by the Russian Mob, quickly becoming the top dog in Gotham thanks to the Joker attacks.

The Batman was last seen heading into the docks. There was a massive fire fight somewhere inside. Police tried to investigate only to find roadwork and other large obstacles preventing them from doing their job.

By the time the cops made it into the district, all they found was an empty Batmobile. I heard Wayne Enterprises won the bid to examine the vehicle. Their conclusion was indecisive and the file closed.

I knew ever since then that I had to find out what happened to Batman. He was a hero. In the five years of his absence, we all realized that fact. Most of us believed he was gone forever. However the way that he simply vanished after one night never sat well with me. I had to find him; I had to know why he left Gotham in its darkest hour!

With the skills I acquired at the Gotham City Police Academy, I thought tracking him would have been easy. It turned out it wasn't enough. So I did what I could to keep the city safe while I searched for clues about Batman. One day, about two years ago, everything changed.

I had just wrangled in a couple of con artists selling high-quality "off-brand" merchandise that I ran into _him_.

Back then I wore just a black hoody, some jeans, and some pads. The hood mixed with some dark face paint around my eyes obscured my identity, not that it mattered that much. The pads kept me from incurring serious injuries outside of gunfire.

My weapon of choice was usually whatever was handy. Mostly old pipes and boards. More often than not I fell back on my martial arts training from the academy.

That night though, there was something strange in the air. I walked out of the alley where I left the cons, and _he_ was just...there. Under a street light across the road dressed in a trench coat and a fedora and masked in a silhouette. He motioned for me to approach.

I did, can't say why. But I did. His collar was popped, further obscuring his face. He greeted me with my full name. Something almost nobody knew.

My attention was firmly his. He continued to speak. His voice undercut with paranoia. His tone barely reached above a whisper. Occasionally he started mumbling things completely unrelated to the subject at hand before jumping back on topic. That topic being my career as a vigilante.

I told him that I was doing the best I could and that I had other objectives as well. He seemed sympathetic and claimed he could help me in exchange for working cases for him.

He then baited me with the first clue on the Batman's disappearance. Only I never mentioned Batman.

Turns out he was a shiftier bastard than he ever let on. Pretty impressive considering his introduction. We never spoke face to face after our first encounter. Every time I changed my phone number, he somehow knew it without me telling him. When he gave me information for a case he wanted me on, it was more like the first bread crumb in a long trail.

It was annoying but I guess he believed I could figure it out. They were good exercises and he helped me along my main case.

Most of the evidence had been eroded away by time. I only found a few bullet holes and burn marks. But I was able to piece together a violent, but contained struggle. Among the leftovers was something small, something the average person would easily miss. It was a rusting "Batarang," a bat shaped throwing star essentially.

They were one of Batman's calling cards. One of the rarer ones actually. But it was proof that Batman was here. He was struggling with someone throughout the docks. Grenade fragments here scorch marks there.

Now I had traded in my hoody for a racing jacket I had found. It was black with a blue stripe across the chest. I installed some metal plates in the chest for added protection. I added a slim domino mask to the mix to hide my identity. And at last I had put together a path to the area where Batman had most likely ended up with the help of my contact.

I was sailing to where that path led me. Southeast Asia. It took some digging but I learned that a single ship left the Gotham's docks not long after the fighting stopped. It cleared the port with barely any paperwork. I had traced its route all the way to the South China Sea before it just disappeared.

That ship was the key. Yeah I had a lot of ground to cover. But there was one port of call that my contact recommended. A city in Thailand called...

"Roanapur? Are you out of your fucking mind kid!" a middle aged Filipino man shouted at me. I had smuggled myself from Gotham all the way to the Philippines. There I met this fellow in a bar near the Manila docks.

"Yes, I'm seeking passage to Roanapur," I repeated. He was supposed to be one of the greatest smugglers in the region. Yet he was acting like I asked for the moon.

He put his hand down on the table. "Listen kid, had you come five years ago I'd have tacked on an extra grand to a oneway ticket. But today I wouldn't go near that city if God himself came down and told me to," the captain simply stated.

I straightened up. "Why not?" I asked. The captain leaned in close and looked me in the eye.

"Because of the damn Russians. About five years ago they started ripping the city apart for no real reason. Things are still hot between the Ruskies and the Triad. Place is a damn war zone," he whispered.

That was it. The Russians captured Batman in Gotham and were taking him to their base for some reason when he escaped! Not wanting to let him escape, they destroyed the city looking for him. I bet he was still there causing them havoc! I couldn't help but wonder if my contact knew about this ahead of time.

Well it was time to bring Batman home. I was simply too small to defend Gotham on my own. We need our hero back. "Please, I need to get there," I pleaded. The captain sighed.

"I'll give you a discount ticket out of pity for your suicidal dream to Bangkok and get you in touch with someone who knows the best overland route. But I sure as hell ain't sailing there," the captain declared.

He was adamant about not going there. I rubbed my temples. The place sounded extremely dangerous but there was enough there worth investigating.

"Very well, what's your price?" I whispered.

"For you, two hundred American up front," the captain offered. I nodded.

"When do we sail?" I asked.

"Tomorrow at dawn. Be at berth six with my money."

I nodded in agreement and stood up. Two hundred dollars! That was dipping deep into my cash reserves. But I was too close to worry about that now.

Soon I popped out of a box in a Bangkok warehouse to find an young man waiting for me. He was my guide to the city of Roanapur. Bangkok was alive as we stepped out onto the streets. My guide got me through a few police check points and we were on our way. He was silent through the city, but relaxed once we were in the countryside.

"Why do you go to Roanapur?" he asked as we cruised along in an old Jeep.

"I'm looking for someone," I answered. What would be the point of lying.

The guide laughed. "Roanapur isn't a city you go looking for someone," he said. "Unless you are a cop."

He turned to me. "Are you a cop?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not a cop."

"Then why go to Roanapur?"

"Like I said, I'm looking for a...a friend," I repeated.

"I hate to say it, but your friend is most likely dead."

"The Russian thing, I heard. But my friend is a bit tougher than the usual person," I countered. The guided skeptically nodded.

"Your friend must be insane, hiding in Roanapur."

"Probably," I agreed.

The rest of our trip was nothing but small talk and by the end of the week, we had made it. A noose hung at the start of the bridge that led to the city. Law and order stopped there.

Roanapur was a legend even in the underworld. When my contact first informed me of the city, I had a hard time verifying its existence. The internet failed to have anything more than a few cryptic posts. Most of the crooks I interrogated recognized the name to some degree but called it a dream. But here it was: the heart of darkness.

The streets smelled of death and booze. Gunfire echoed all around, mixing with a dozen or so languages and accents. Several buildings looked like they were bombed out and apartment complexes appeared more like brick fortresses. Several burned out cars lined the streets.

Two other cars came screaming in from around the corner. They were heatedly exchanging bullets. I moved off to the side to evade the stray shots. One of them spun out and crashed into a building.

I pulled out the old Batarang and clenched it in my fist. Now was the time to get to work.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Hello and welcome to _Knighthood_. To anyone new to me or my work, this is a sequel to _Nightfall_. I'd recommend checking that out first, but you are welcome to proceed and you can always ask me a question about what's going on or what a character is referencing. Grant it I will point you to read _Nightfall_ and/or quote it.

While previously my goal was to go over some of the things that bothered me about the modern view of Batman, this time I'm going to focus on legacy. Legacy is one of those fundamental human characteristics that we spend literally our fretting over to one degree or another. Legacy is universal and very broad so there will be a lot of ground to cover. The other goal is about the rise of heroes in an age that seems unfit for heroes.

You might just see some familiar faces, but because I'm using the Dark Knight Trilogy they might be a little different than their proper counter parts. So don't expect magic and full blown superpowers is what I'm saying. I know, I'm disappointed too. But think of this as a sort of thought exercise in how people would respond to something like Batman showing up.

This is part one of the opening Blitz so please read on.

Until next time, now there is a god {a god we've all forgotten}


	2. Chapter 2

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter II: Renegade

Fucking Roanpur. I could see the old Buddha statue in the distance off the bow of my little sailboat. Never thought I'd make it back to that shit heap of a town before my number was called. It had been four years since I left.

The city was far worse than I remembered. Half the place was blown up and the rest of it was falling apart. Not that I was in much better shape. Dark heavy bags weighed down my eyes which were bloodshot from caffeine and liquor. My hair was longer now, reaching the small of my back and hadn't been able to dye it in years.

I never really give a damn about my personal appearance. But seeing the city again reminded me that a ton of shit had changed since that night.

And it was a hell of a night. It was about four years ago. Four crazy years. I still wasn't sure what happened. It started when Rock disappeared in the city about two weeks after we got back from Gotham. I had just fully recovered from my fight with the Batman. Rock had been in and out like that a lot. He usually made it back by sundown.

Not that night. I volunteered to go bring him back. Hell was bubbling closer to the surface. Balalaika's troops were out in force. Boss Chang from the Hong Kong Triad responded with his own men. The other crime bosses quickly joined in too.

They mostly kept to their own turf. It turned some streets into a multiracial mockup of the DMZ between the Koreas. I had to tread carefully.

There was a tension on the streets. Everyone with half-a-brain had taken cover. The rest of us were either too stupid to hide or too excited to get in the action. Russians were starting to sweep buildings. Various screaming and shouts started afterward.

It wasn't like Sis to stir shit up like that. Had she decided to just take the town? No, even I knew that the city couldn't be run by a single crime boss.

Things were heavy and quiet for that first hour. Around one in the morning was when things went to hell. No one figured out who shot first. But soon bodies started filling the streets.

Rock was nowhere to be seen. I was getting desperate. Bullets were flying all over. I never found him that night.

Nobody knew where he was. I spent what little time I had over the next year trying to find him. Some of that bastard's tact must've rubbed off of me at some point because I got more information just talking to people rather than my usual method of shoving a Cutlass in their face.

A lead finally broke about a year after we had returned from Gotham. I broke off from Lagoon Company as soon as I could. Rock was apparently in Bangkok. I was going to catch him and ask him what the fuck his deal was. He wasn't going to walk out on us without a word.

So I smuggled myself to the city. He wasn't there. But I found a lead that said he was in Singapore. Thus began a long journey of following rumors across the Pacific. Each new rumor was vaguer and more absurd than the last.

Now he was apparently back in Roanapur. Honestly I wasn't sure if I was happy to be back. It was going to fucking great to get some real action after some pretty quiet years. A few bar fights and low key shootouts with petty thugs weren't what I called real action.

At the same time though, I liked the quiet. Being away from the city was relaxing. The stress of finding Rock really ruined it.

I brought my ship into dock. There was hardly anyone around. Usually there were at least a few smugglers or con artists hanging around. A bomb went off somewhere in the city.

Fucking perfect. I moored my boat just a few blocks down from Lagoon Company's headquarters. The smell of death and decay filtered back into my nose. It was like an aphrodisiac. I felt the bug itch as I holstered my guns. I hadn't been able to wear my weapons out in public in months.

Normally I had to wear a jacket to hide them or abandon them all together because the more "civilized" parts of the world frowned on open carry weapons. What bullshit. I stepped onto the dock and headed for the Yellow Flag.

I was mostly curious if it was still standing. I tied my hair back as I entered the street. Should have cut it before coming back, but I guess I had gotten a little soft in my years away. Hopefully there wasn't going to be a fight.

Shapes moved in the shadows. Most likely they were survivors of Balalaika's private little war, scavenging what they could in the lulls. I had seen a few other places like this in my travels. I never stuck around long because they were rarely destinations.

I saw one of the forms pull out a cellphone and wander off. My heart beat started to rise as I came across the Yellow Flag. Or Bao had gone through a massive remarketing campaign and rebranded the place as the White Flag, seeing as that what was flying above the establishment.

The inside was still the same as I remembered, mostly. There were fewer seats and the shelves were looking a little lacking. Business was slow seeing as I was the only person in the bar at the moment. Bao looked up from his cleaning. A million things flashed through his eyes.

"Revy? Is that you?" he hesitantly asked.

"No it's fucking Marilyn Monroe, of course it's me," I angrily growled as I walked up to the bar. Bao put down the glass and grabbed his shotgun. He aimed it at me, forcing me to stop. "What the fuck Bao, I haven't done shit to you in years!"

His eyes were alight with panic. "Get the fuck out of here Two-hands!" he shrieked.

"What the hell man?" I asked. Bao looked confused.

"Sorry Revy, but Balalaika put a price on your head," he said. "I'd like to help you, but you're a wanted woman in these parts." He motioned towards the bulletin board. There was my face on a wanted poster next to a similar one of Rock! Sis wanted us alive for fifty grand me and one hundred for Rock. What the hell was going on? What kind of fucked up planet did I land on where Rock has a higher bounty than me?

I ran out of the bar. A group of seven ragged punks had gathered outside in the dusk. Most had simple melee weapons but a couple had AKs. They all looked half-starved and foaming at the mouth.

Every one of them looked angrier than the hounds of hell. I drew my guns. None of them flinched. "Get the fuck back!" I yelled. They took a step forward.

"No, Two-hands. You're our ticket out of this shit stain of a city!" one of them retorted. I cocked my pistols and started to plan out the best way to Lagoon Company. It was going to be fun.

Two of the punks on the side went to flank me. If I took both of them out at the same time, then the three in the center would rush me before I could re-establish my stance. Even if I took out the flankers and the center force, the two guys with the rifles still had me pinned. I'd need a shield.

Adrenaline filled my veins. I'd make an arc right to left, taking out the flanker and a center guy on each side. Hopefully the survivor will be stupid enough to keep up the charge. He'd be easy to beat up close quarters and become a bullet blocker.

Alight. Let's go fuckers. I started perfectly.

One to head. Brain splatters. Hits ground.

Two to chest. Heart bursts. Hits ground.

Three to chest. Internal bleeding. Hits ground.

One to head. Eye explodes. Hits ground.

And dodge right. Grab extended arm. Break said arm. Twist owner around.

Bam, go time.

The guys with the AKs were looking nervous now.

"Hey come on guys, let's just leave the woman alone!" my meat shield screamed. Bam. Bam. I took out the gunmen and delivered a coup de grâce to the whiner. Damn, I guess all the good fighters were already dead.

I quickly holstered my guns and walked away. A shot fired from behind. My left arm went numb. Blood started to run down it. I turned around, laying waste to the fucker that survived.

A truck pulled up from around the corner. I heard them speak Russian. It was time to go. I limped down into an alley and started towards Lagoon Company.

I climbed up those familiar stairs and opened the door. Benny was sitting there reading a book. He looked over at me. He smiled for a moment before noticing my arm. "Oh my god, Revy!" he shouted as he ran over to me. I couldn't help but laugh a little as he steadied me.

Benny hadn't changed. Time seemed to have just skipped over him. Even the stubble on his face seemed the same as it was the day I met him.

He took me to the old couch that looked way rattier than I remembered. He quickly grabbed a first aid kit. "So where's Dutch?" I hissed out as Benny applied some rubbing alcohol to my wound. Benny then started to remove the bullet.

"Dutch is out in the Lagoon running an errand. So what are you doing back? I thought Balalaika's bounty on you would have kept you away," Benny responded. He started stitching up my arm.

"Well I just found out about it myself," I replied. "And I heard Rock was back in town so I wanted to check it out."

Benny looked confused. "Kevin said he was in Jakarta," he said.

"What?" I said. I tried to sit up but my arm shot up with pain.

"Easy. Just sleep. We can catch up tomorrow," Benny said from a long way away.

I woke with a start, shooting straight up to the sound of an echoing pitter-patter somewhere in the office. My hands went right for my Cutlasses that were in my holster on the coffee table. Benny left a note.

"Dear Revy, I went out to get some gear. Behave while I'm gone. Help yourself to the fridge. Fucking A," I grumbled as I stood up. With a quick stretch I walked over to the fridge. It was filled with crap and beer. Great.

Another pitter-pater came from the other room. I closed the fridge and walked towards the sound. My heart beat faster and faster.

The next room was empty but I heard something move behind me. I saw a wisp of something disappear. Something fell over with a loud thud. I walked around the corner to see a little kid getting up. My shadow ominously fell over the child.

The kid turned around. My heart stopped and my legs started to quiver. It was like staring into someone sicko's twisted idea of a prank mirror. I saw my eyes and his hair, my cheeks and his jaw.

We shared a moment of recognition. I knew it was _her_. I…I never thought I'd actually see _her_. The kid was a little girl who wore a little dress made out of a bad Hawaiian shirt. The little girl seemed as scared as I was.

I heard the front door open and Benny whistling. He set his things down before walking in on the scene. I turned around to him, my body was quivering. "Is that…is that," I repeated a few times. Benny just nodded.

"Yes Revy, she's Lee," he said, "_your_ daughter."

I don't know how many times I had been shot or punched, but that hurt more than anything else. Next thing I knew, I was sitting across from Benny at the table while Lee played on the floor with some toy cars. I could feel every time she looked over to me. I would turn to meet her gaze but the girl quickly went back to her playing.

"Why'd you keep her?" I asked with as little rudeness as I could muster. Benny shrugged. He passed me a cup of coffee then brought up two fingers.

"One, if your maternal suddenly instincts kicked in we didn't want end up dead after telling you we gave her away. Two, we're your friends Revy. We care about you and we care about Lee," he said.

I looked over at Lee while she was playing. Half her hair was spiked up and the other half was gently patted down. She was a pretty girl with a round face and expressive eyes.

The door opened up and Dutch entered. I apparently drew all his attention. "Well, well I didn't think you'd ever return to Roanapur," Dutch said. He kept walking. "You still looking for Rock, 'cause I just heard he showed up in Honolulu the other day."

"Yeah nice to see you again too Dutch and I am," I retorted.

"Well just get out of here ASAP. I don't want you bring down the wrath of god on us," he grumbled. Dutch walked past me without a second glance.

"I think you should stay awhile, spend time with Lee," Benny said.

I cocked my eyebrow. "Why?" I asked.

"Because she's only ever seen you in pictures and knows you through what very few stories we can tell her. Look, there is no way she'll ever have a normal childhood. It would be stupid to think otherwise. But let her have a memory of her mother," he retorted.

I crossed my arms. "Come on, I'm not her mother. I pushed her out of me and bolted as soon as the doc said I could."

"Then why did you keep her? Dutch said he would have helped you. He'd have taken you wherever you would have liked."

"I don't know I just did okay!" I shouted, jumping to my feet and slammed my fists into the table. I noticed Lee was shaking in fear at the sight of me. I sighed and returned to my seat.

"Look, you must have had her for a reason. Just talk to her, get to know her. That's all I'm asking," Benny requested.

"I'm not meant to be a mom, Benny. As soon as it's dark, I'm getting out of here," I said. Benny just nodded.

Rock wasn't here and that was all that mattered. He valued his own life too much to risk it here. I snuck out the window at nightfall.

Sneaking back to my boat was easy. I started prepping to leave. I heard a creak behind me. My hand instinctively pulled my gun and aimed it…right at Benny and Lee. The girl wore a hat and a backpack along with her dress, and was clutching a picture frame.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I whispered. Benny shook his head.

Lee stared at the. "Mama," she whispered back. "Mama, don't go."

I blinked. "Sorry kid, but I have to," I muttered. I turned around only to feel something lock onto my leg. Lee had wrapped my leg in a hug. Her eyes were staring up at me with tears. I looked back to Benny only to find him walking towards me.

Lee looked up to me. "I…I…I, I guess you can come along if you'd like," I finally said. The little girl nodded. I lifted her onto my boat. Benny shouldered his own backpack. "Are you coming too?"

Benny nodded. "What about Dutch?" I asked.

"He's hiring some part timers until we come back. All of us. You, me, Lee, and Rock," he said. He climbed onto the boat. Had he planned this all along?

The question followed me as I brought the boat out to sea. I watched her sleep. Her gentle breathing raised her chest up and down as she lay under a blanket in the cabin. What the fuck was I doing?

The kid didn't deserve this. But it was probably safer with me out on the sea than in Roanapur. At least Benny had come along too. He knew way more about her than me.

All I knew was that for now it was off to Indonesia and hopefully some answers.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Well nothing major there, guess that's all...

No, I'm kidding. Among the things I get iffy about in fanfiction is adding an OC kid to a pairing. Especially with Rock and Revy in question. I have a hard time seeing those two in a domestic setting like that. Not saying it can't be done, and I'm going to try. Back on topic: part of legacy is children, a literal biological piece of us past down to the next generation. For Revy, being one not prone to long term thinking, Lee is very much a big piece of her legacy, whether she likes it or not. I think it adds a new layer of complexity to play with.

What's in a name? Well for Lee, I wanted something that sounded both eastern and western. It turns out that Lee worked out well. Next was choosing between Li and Lee. I went with the English version mostly because she's grown up with Americans so that makes more sense.

Until next time, what was the wall that was written on {a barrier only of the mind}


	3. Chapter 3

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter III: Novus ordo seclorum

The world changed. Batman was the start of it. Something new, something strange. Something I almost missed. Even after he disappeared five years ago, the seeds he planted have taken root. For good and ill.

The world changed. Masked heroes and heroines were once relegated to the realm of popular fiction. Movies, games, novels. Now they were popping up all over the world.

With the good must also come the bad. When a hero arose all too often a villain did as well, and vice versa.

Even so they pushed on. They protected the weak and provided a service to all on the side of justice. The vigilantes had worked hard and were becoming icons, beacons of hope in the grim world.

But all the heroes were held back by one simple fact: they were not Batman. That wasn't an insult. That was a fact.

Batman had access to equipment even I didn't know about. He had years of advanced training mixed with a keen intellect and painful experience. But there was one thing he lacked that these new heroes desperately needed: a successor.

The new heroes tried to follow Batman's example as best they could. But how long could they hold onto a fading memory. No they needed a living, breathing benchmark.

The world needed a Batman. One capable of making the calls everyone else was too scared to make. It was almost too late by the time I realized that fact. But I rectified that fact some four years ago.

I hid the Batman from his enemies and the world. All the while I built a collection of informants and connections to keep a pulse on global affairs. I had people from the President of the United States' Press Corp. to the lowliest street thugs in the thief dens of Southeast Asia. They allowed me to pursue my real task: finding a successor for Batman.

Recreating the Batman was a fool's errand. Too many things went off in just the right way to create such a man. I wasn't in the game to play such long odds. Instead I needed someone with a similar disposition and was willing to learn from him.

I added them to

There were many candidates to choose from. Especially in the first year after I hid Batman. The Green Arrow in Star City, a bit too green for me. The Huntress from New York, a good hero but she was too prone to violence. The United Kingdom had The Hood, but he was too much of an enigma. Recently there was Solstice from India. All of them were fine heroes, but not the ones I thought could truly benefit from studying under Batman.

After three year I found a candidate that just might make it. A drop out from Gotham City's Police Academy named John Blake. He had been working the streets for a while by the time I made contact. I tested him relentlessly and finally set him on course to find Batman, a task he eagerly took to. If he was the one we needed, then he would find the Dark Knight at any cost.

That was as far as I could go though. It was up to Batman to teach Blake.

I stepped out onto the balcony of my apartment. The city Jakarta was active in the dusk hours. I set my trench coat out on my bed. In its pockets were specially designed gloves that didn't leave a trace. I played with my fedora over the railing.

Yes it had taken four long years, but I was on the verge of something truly great. Imagine a network of heroes built around a decentralized control system that could allocate resources and provide information on a global scale. No longer would the vigilantes of the world fight alone, but as a unified organization; a league capable of dispensing aid and hope where its members went.

I left my dream and returned to my small living space. Along the main wall where most people kept their television, I kept an expanding web of connections in order over a lovely map of the world I got at a tourist trap in Singapore. Contacts, conspiracies, and heroes were all accounted for. When one moved, I could trace the impact all over the world.

I went to my laptop I had built custom. It took some doing but I was able to slip unnoticed on the internet. I checked Blake's status. My sources reported that he had made it to Roanapur. Excellent.

Hmm, Roanapur...

Roanapur was the start of the end of Batman as we knew him. The Russian mob unleashed a terrible force on the city. It was similar to actions they had taken in Tokyo not long ago that ended in dozens dead, including a young girl.

Roanapur was a center of crime and corruption. To say I wasn't moved by its recent fate would be the height of understatement. I was elated to know that the city was on verge of collapse. It wasn't a hard task to set in motion.

Roanapur was the final crucible. If John Blake could survive the hellhole, he'd be a stronger person. And if he found Batman then he'd be the hero the world needed.

But for now there was a greater concern on the horizon. A man named Slade Wilson had recently turned up in the news. It was only significant in the fact that he was a Colonel in the United States Army and had deserted in Afghanistan two years ago. Wasn't it interesting that two men that served with him were found murdered in Bangladesh days before he was sighted at a rural airport in eastern India?

Even with my network and access, Wilson was still a black hole of a man. After his marriage license, there was only his recruitment forms, and then nothing. What was the American government hiding this time? He was clearly some top secret warrior that was on the loose somewhere in the world that was most likely targeting his former colleagues.

I had to figure out what he was after and what he was capable of. Everything was connected, in one way or another. You couldn't hide from me Wilson. Eventually I will discover the truth as I had done before. For I was the man without a face, nothing more than a shadow in the night,_ I_ was but a Question.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, so unlike _Nightfall_ which circulated evenly, _Knighthood_ will treat every third chapter as a wildcard depending on the needs of the narrative. I'll try to leave clues in the title so that you know which perspective we are going to be in. I think the Question here will be titled with Latin phrases and we'll go from there.

Now we are taking a deeper look at what the Batman's legacy. Yes there's Blake, but he is but a piece in the machinery. For now. The Question will handle most of the large scale piece moving for now.

Also, unlike _Nightfall_ we have mostly separate storylines this time around and I am really excited about it. Well I hope you liked the opening blitz.

Leave a review so you can tell me what you think, and PM any questions or ideas you may have!

Until next time, now two worlds are one {there is no difference between there and here}


	4. Chapter 4

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter IV: How it Goes

The car crash was pretty bad. Not a lot of guys survived the initial crash. I was able to an officer looking guy before the car exploded.

It probably looked pretty strange to see an American lift a large Russian out of a burning jeep. I felt a pang of regret not being able to save more of the men in the car. But I was able to save the big fellow.

He was pretty flipping heavy. We crashed in an old store that had long since been ransacked. I popped open the back door and set my prisoner against a wall. I sat across from him after I put a gag on him and chained him up. It took a minute for me to catch my breath. But I didn't have long because his buddies might already be looking for him.

Finding a bucket of water in the city was pretty easy. The quality of the water was not something I like to go into, but hey it was there. When I made it back my friend was still waiting in the depths of unconsciousness. I slipped on my mask and heaved the water on him.

He woke with a start, looking around in a panicked dazed. I slowly approached him. "Hey there big guy," I calmly greeted. My new friend started rattling around in an attempt to break free.

"It's okay. I'm just going ask you a few questions. Then I promise I'll let you go after you answer them," I said. The man just nodded. "But if you scream when I take off the gag, there will be some blunt force trauma, understand?"

The man nodded again. "Good now let's start with something simple," I said as I removed the gag. "Were you in Gotham about four years ago?"

The man nodded affirmative. Score one for me. "Why were you in Gotham?" I proceeded.

"We were there on orders from Moscow to re-establish our operation," the man answered.

"And what about Batman. Did you have orders to catch him?"

"No. That was the Captain's idea. She...she wanted to catch and make an example him," he seized up a bit.

"How'd you do it? How'd you catch the Batman?"

"The Captain hired an outsider, a guy from Lagoon Company. Uh, Rock was his name. He put it together."

Now we were getting somewhere. This Rock must be one hell of guy if he could catch Batman. He probably had some answers. "Where is Rock now?" I asked. The man shook his head.

"He just vanished about the same time the Batman escaped. See we were waiting for someone from back home to arrive for further orders and then...and then it all went to hell," he stammered. He shook his head.

"What happened?" I pressed.

"A bomb went off near our headquarters. The captain ordered a lockdown but by the time we were deployed he was gone! Wayne was just gone!"

Wayne? Bruce Wayne? He was Batman? I wasn't that surprised. He visited the orphanage I grew up in once. It was in his eyes, in the way he moved. He was not a carefree playboy; no he was carrying the weight of something more.

This also fell in line with the fact that Wayne had retreated to a private property somewhere in the Rockies. He hasn't been seen since. As it turned out he may have been taken away by these mobsters.

I had to be sure we were on the same page. "Do you mean Bruce Wayne?"

The man paused then nodded. "Yeah, Rock put it all together. Said that the Batman was Wayne and it turned out he was right."

Well that was useful. "What about your boss, this captain, what's..."

I heard boots outside. I gagged my prisoner. Someone was yelling in Russian. Guess his friends decided now was a good time for us to stop.

"Well looks like your buddies are here for you. Sorry to cut and run like this but that's just how it goes," I said. I quickly ran out of the back into the ally. The streets were mostly empty. In the distance I saw a white flag.

I took off my mask and slowed to a brisk walk. Up ahead I saw a group of men standing outside of a bar. They were trapping a young woman with long dark hair. She had a tribal tattoo and wore nothing but Daisy Duke Shorts and a tank top along with combat boots.

The girl expertly wielded a pair of pistols. She fiercely shouted at the men. Only two of them were armed with AK-47s, the rest used melee weapons. I tried to formulate a plan to stop them. They moved to fast for me to intervene.

There were about thirty yards between me and them. Even at full speed, the girl would still be overwhelmed before I got there. She started picking them off with cruel accuracy. The attackers were blown away in a red shower.

It seemed to be over after the girl captured one of the melee fighters. The gunman didn't seem to like the situation. That didn't stop the girl from taking them out. She then executed her human shield.

She holstered her weapons with a flourish and continued on. One of the gunmen seemed to have survived. I watched him get a lucky potshot off. The girl took the strike in stride. I heard squealing wheels and the sound of Russian.

The girl took off into an alleyway and disappeared before I could offer assistance. Though I doubt she'd want it.

The Russians spread out of their vehicles. They formed a perimeter around the bar. Damn, I think East Berlin was less confrontational than this town. I too retreated into the backstreets of Roanapur. I needed someone who knew something about Batman or Bruce Wayne. Hell I wanted to know about that Rock guy.

I passed a man carrying groceries home while contemplating my next move. He had dyed silver hair and a black trench coat. His eyes were shielded behind dark sunglasses that he wore at night. What was wrong with this city? I might as well see if he knows anything.

"Hey…uh, sir, do you speak English?" I asked. The man stopped and turned his head around with deadly intent. I fell into a light stance. The man adjusted his sunglasses.

"What assistance can Lotton the Wizard provide you citizen?" he said in a cold, slick, and well-practice voice. Okay this place is getting weirder by the freaking second.

"Yeah, this might seem weird but do you know a man named Rock?" I asked. Lotton rushed me, placing his free hand over my mouth. He looked all around. His every move was inflected with a certain level of drama.

"Be careful where you say that name stranger. Unsavory characters abound in this neighborhood. They might get the wrong impression from hearing such things," he said. I nodded. He released me.

"But I can assist you, in private. Follow me," Lotton quietly said. He sharply turned around and marched off. I did as he said and he led me down the way to a primitive bunker. It was made from an old basement with a heavy door being the only visible entrance.

Lotton gave an intricate series of knocks on the door. I raised an eyebrow. This place was getting stranger by the second.

The door parted open. A girl with dark hair greeted us. She had a large scar across her throat and a speaker installed where her voice box should've been. Her skin was unhealthily pale, adding to the air of spookiness around her.

"Who's this chump?" the girl asked. Her voice came from the speaker on her throat. It was an eerie, raspy sound that sent a chill down my spine. She was wearing black clothing. Guess I fit in better than I thought.

"He is a wandering nomad, seeking a greater truth!" Lotton answered. I was under the impression that Roanapur was a city of sin and darkness, where only the grim and gritty made it. But this guy acted like he was trying out for the community theater's next feature. The girl seemed to be befuddled yet unmoved by his performance.

"What?" the girl coldly asked. Lotton adjusted his sunglasses.

"He is searching for information on Mr. Rock. I didn't wish his life to be tragically ended by some of the other degenerates searching for him," he replied. The girl just nodded to the stairs that led a little deeper into the facility.

A Chinese woman was carefully aiming a throwing knife in the center of the central chamber. She threw it right in the bull's eye between two other embedded knives. Unlike the girl and Lotton, this woman had an aura of danger that emanated throughout the space. She looked over at us and frowned.

"What hell, Sawyer? When you get boyfriend?" the woman asked in the most broken, heavily accented English I had ever heard.

"No, he's just some guy Lotton picked off the street. He says the kid's looking for Rock," Sawyer answered.

The woman looked me over with a rather unimpressed expression. "You looking for the pussy? Tough shit, dumbass. Haven't seen him since we hired for job four years ago," the woman curtly replied.

"What was this job?" I eagerly asked. The woman didn't look too pleased with my enthusiasm.

"We hired by some guy over phone, used modulator so didn't recognize voice. Told us to meet someone at city limits," the woman stated.

"Yes, it was a crisp, cool night. We waited in our car for our contact to arrive. It turns out that it was Rock and some man with a bag over his head! Rock hand us a letter that instructed us to take him and the mystery man down to a nearby village," Lotton said.

"And when we got back the whole place had gone to hell," Sawyer added.

"Indeed, and that's why we stayed: to render assistants to the weak in this time of bitter struggle!" Lotton proclaimed with a triumphal pose mixed in for effect. The Chinese woman smacked him outside his head.

"No we stay because we get paid big buck, dumbass. Otherwise we get hell out," she berated him.

"Who pays you?" I asked. The woman just shrugged.

"Don't know. Uses Swiss Account. All hush-hush," she said.

It was from there that I began a long trek through the Thai countryside. I bounced from village to village. Few remembered the strangers and fewer still could give me accurate descriptions of them. The accounts were all pretty similar. Two men entered the town, got directions, then left.

They covered their tracks pretty well too. More often than not they asked for multiple directions and disappeared back the way they came. Days upon days passed as I constantly backtracked and recalculated the route the two used. I found myself walking up a hill towards the next village. This one was pretty isolated. I figured this had to be it.

The early morning mist clung to the jungle air. I pulled out my Batarang. I reached the top of the hill and looked down on the town below. The buildings and the forest seemed to meld into a single entity. I felt a sense of wonder as I watch the people go about their work.

My stomach growled something fierce. All I had subsisted on over the past week had been military rations and local plants that my survival guide cleared to be safe to eat. I could smell food being cooked down below. With my pocket book of common Thai phrases at the ready I walked down.

Most of the locals gave me a weary glance. I just smiled and nodded. My nose led me to the local bakery.

It was a quaint place filled with the local scent. Hopefully the young woman working there would give me a discount. She was sweeping the floor in front of the counter. Two children were playing by a small table in the corner. One of them was a little girl and the other one was two young to tell.

She gave me a local greeting that I actually knew a good response to! The woman must have noticed my accent because she looked up with a distrusting expression. She said something to the kids and the girl took her sibling to the back of the store.

The woman circled around, shutting the front door. I felt her arm wrap around my shoulder, placing a knife at my throat!

"I was warned about you, westerner. You are not taking him away," she growled in my ear. Her English was far better than the Chinese mercenary's, but was still heavily accented. But it was coherent at least.

"Listen lady, I'm not here to take anyone away. I'm looking for someone that might have come here about four years ago!" I pleaded.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" the woman hissed.

"Look, I'm searching for Bruce Wayne. I only want to talk to him!" I added. I doubt that would help but why bother lying.

I felt the knife slip away. The woman walked by towards the back of the store. "Wait here," she ordered. She went into the back. I heard an argument start up. The woman returned after twenty minutes and motioned for me to come to the back with her.

I took a deep breath. Moment of truth time.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Feel free to yell at me and call me names. It's okay, I probably deserve it by pulling cliffhangers left and right like that. But you will just have to wait for chapter seven. Because there are other parts of the story to be told. And no I can't just put it in one chapter. I love all you guys, but come on: let me work.

Outside of the jerk move ending, I think this chapter turned out well. I love Lotton and I worked hard to keep him out of _Nightfall_. He's the best though. Oh the worst fighter ever, but damn he is smooth in the stupidest ways.

Lot's of knew information gathered here. Make of that what you will and tell me what you think in a review. PM me any theories you have about what's going on and any ideas or places you think I should go.

Until next time, who was the girl at the Dance of Death {the girl that found the wall}


	5. Chapter 5

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter V: Bullets with Butterfly Wings

The sun was rising in the east making the water shimmer. Few clouds hung in the sky. A cooling breeze danced through my hair. I was sitting on the stern of my sailboat.

Just a few feet away from me was the girl, Lee. She was watching me. It was what she did every morning. I didn't bother chasing her off because she'd return minutes later. She never cried much either. Thank god for that, otherwise I'd have thrown her overboard.

Benny was prepping some coffee in the cabin. The bitter scent of the beans mixed with the sweet smell of the ocean. It was the kind of aroma that made me feel at home. I turned around to see if it was done when I saw my reflection in the window.

I honestly hadn't felt like me since the night before Rock left. That was the nagging thing that bothered me. He just upped and left. It's not like he knew about…well my condition after the fact. Did he have something to do with what happened to Roanapur?

Unlikely. He did everything he was out to do and he was truly one of us. Even so he wasn't one prone to violence and action. That was my specialty.

But as I stared into my own tired eyes and saw my face, I felt something crawling deep inside. It started not long after I met the girl and had grown since I had been around her and Benny. I slammed my fist into the deck with a loud angry groan. Lee stepped back a few steps. Benny simply kept on working.

I stormed into the kitchen. Lee followed a few feet behind. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and rushed back to the stern. I gathered my hair up into the air.

The knife easily glided through my hair. The wind took the freed strands away into the ocean. It felt as if some great weight had been lifted off of me. I took a deep breath and turned around. My hair now only made it down to my neck. But it was almost enough to make me look like a different person.

Benny walked out to me with a cup of coffee. I gladly took it. Lee ran up to Benny. She pulled on her shoulder length black hair that peeked out from her sunhat. "Like Mama," she said to him. Here I thought kids hated haircuts. I doubt it would do her much good. Half her hair always stayed perfect while the other half was always a mess.

Benny shook his head. "You'll have to ask mama about it," he replied. Lee looked up at me. She started to quiver. I just blinked and she darted away.

It had been like this since we first met. The only thing she had spoken to me was what she said at the docks. She just stared at me the rest of the time. What was there to say? Hey kid, sorry I have no interest in your life? Even with that fact, why the hell was _she_ so interested in _me_?

"So Revy, are you ready to make your first big parenting decision?" Benny asked. He took a sip of his drink.

"And what the fuck would that be, Benny?" I growled. Benny shook his head.

"Do you want to cut Lee's hair?" he explained.

I felt my eye twitch a little. "The fuck does that have to do with me? Why don't you do it?" I asked. Benny sighed.

"Look Revy, it's time you took some responsibility in your life," he bluntly shot back. He stared right at me through his glasses. I could see some legitimate anger in his eyes. No not anger. Resentment?

"What?" I hissed.

"You ran off as soon as you could. You left your daughter with your friends and went gallivanting after Rock without so much as a word to us," Benny continued.

"Don't you think he owes us an explanation?" I countered. Benny nodded in agreement.

"Yes he does, but you should have talked to us about it. We would have helped you!" Benny shouted. He leaned in close to me.

"Now what I'm _saying_ is that you chose to have Lee, that was your decision and I respect it. What I'm _asking_ is for you to take responsibility for that decision. To be a better person than Rock; he's been gone her whole life and could very well never be. But you have a chance to be a part of it now," Benny whispered. I felt a chill run down my spine.

Me, be a better person than Rock? That's a fucked up notion if I ever heard one. And what about this taking responsibility crap? I didn't owe her nothing and I sure as hell didn't want anything from her. But as me and Benny squared off, I realized that he wasn't backing down.

I kicked the deck. "Fine I'll talk to her I guess, if that will make you happy," I grumbled. Benny was my friend, probably my only one at that point. It wasn't worth it having him pissed at me the whole time we were out there.

"That's all I'm asking," he replied with a nod.

I walked up to the bow to find Lee sitting there. She was looking at the growing coast of Java coming over the horizon. Her head turned away from me. I sat across from her. My fingers danced up and down on the deck. I sighed. "So…ah, you want hair like mine?" I tentatively asked.

Lee looked over to me. She nodded. I motioned for her to come over to me. The girl reluctantly did so.

I took off her sun hat and set it aside. Lee gasped a bit at the close contact as I began gathering up her wild hair. I carefully placed my knife at about where I cut my own hair. "Sure you want to do this?" I asked.

The girl nodded. I made one quick stroke and removed the hair. Lee imminently jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I joined Benny back at the stern. He looked rather pleased with himself.

Lee quickly ran up to the blonde man and tugged at his shirt. "Like mama!" she squealed. I tried not to roll my eyes and started to sail us into Jakarta. I didn't see what the big fucking deal was.

We docked about thirty minutes later. Getting out of customs took about an hour of conjoining and bargaining with a couple of officers. But we finally made it into the city. Benny kept a hand on Lee, guiding her through the crowd.

The city was bustling with action, just not the action that Roanapur provided. This was a city of living. "So who called you about Rock?" I asked Benny once we were out of the docks.

"Alex from the Cartel. Said he saw Rock wandering around downtown a few days ago," Benny answered.

We stopped a restaurant to eat. Benny was smart enough to bring extra cash. We had just ordered when Benny stood up.

"I have to make a call," he said. He went over to the payphones in the back. Who knew that those were still a thing? I was waiting for our drinks to arrive when Lee started wriggling.

"Mama, have to go," she moaned. I sighed and walked her to the bathroom. Benny was still on the phone.

"We made good time, what can I say? Hmm, I know but it just sort of happened. Alright, bye," Benny said. He hung up the phone just as Lee went into the bathroom.

"Who was that?" I asked him.

"Uh…Dutch," Benny said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and went back to the table.

About an hour later, we had entered the lair of a gangster. Not your average gangster though. Alex de Rojo was not a man who engaged in the typical vices of the men of his station. He lived in a simple apartment a few miles from his business front. He never went to clubs. Hell I don't even think he touched alcohol.

While I never trusted a man without a habit, the Cartel sure did. If you bought heroin anywhere in Southeast Asia or Australia, odds are Alex had a hand in the packaging and the shipping.

We met the man the private office he kept across the street from his business. Alex was an average Columbian man who kept an air of legitimacy about him. He wore high end business casual and kept a carton of cigars on his desk.

He looked rather surprised at our arrival. "I must say Two-hands I'm surprised to see you still kicking. Especially after that Ivan Bitch put a price on your head," he greeted us. I reached for one of my pistols. "Not that I have an interest in collecting. I prefer not to stir the pot when it isn't necessary."

I relaxed my hand. Lee wandered over to his book shelf and started looking at the volumes. She at least had the decency not to touch them. Alex paid her no mind.

"So I heard you saw Rock around here," I said. Alex nodded.

"Yeah, I think anyway. He looked like him that's for sure. He seemed really paranoid, like someone was after him," he said. "Anyway I was going to invite him to dinner, see if I could negotiate a new shipping charge with Lagoon Company but I got busy and work and you know."

"What was he doing?" I asked.

"I don't know he was talking to the captain of a freighter bound for Port Moresby. It left a few hours ago," Alex added.

I slammed my fist into Alex's desk. "Damn it," I growled.

Benny adjusted his glasses. "You sure it was Port Moresby?" he asked. Alex nodded.

"I make it my business to know where everything is coming and going in this city."

My body reached out and I grabbed Alex by the collar and yanked him forward. "Listen Revy, that's all I saw. Sorry I couldn't be more use to you. Now if you'd please leave, I'm expecting a call," Alex rather calmly insisted. I threw him aside with a growl.

The three of us started back to the ship. Goddamn it, what the fuck was he doing? We were so fucking close. But _no_ he has to scurry away again.

"Don't worry Revy. We'll catch him eventually," he said.

"I've been so close for so long. It's like he doesn't want to be found," I muttered. Something didn't feel right. I looked around. "Where's Lee?" I asked. Benny stopped and searched. I went back the way we came just in time to see the wisp of her dress go behind an alleyway.

I sprinted after her, ready to draw my weapon. Lee was staring at a man standing on the other side on an empty street. He wore a brown trench coat, and a matching fedora which he was holding in place with his arm. An ominous shadow obscured his face. I drew my pistol.

The man instantly encased himself in a cloud of dense smoke. I charged forward to find him gone. He had vanished!

My nerves must were on edge. The man wasn't really threatening and there wasn't anything else wrong. Whatever, must be starting to lose it a bit. I holstered my gun.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" I asked Lee as I pushed her out of the alley.

"Dada, tink ah saw Dada," Lee said in a low, almost ashamed tone. She probably just saw some office dweeb on his way home and mistook him for Rock. Kids were stupid like that.

"Well tough break kid, your dad ain't here," I said. It was time to keep this wild goose chase alive by going to a place I hadn't been before.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy, what fresh hell is this?

I enjoyed writing this chapter. I know it's kind of a repeat of chapter two, but I think I added enough new stuff and moved on. Surprisingly I do know what I'm doing. Sort of.

I tried to keep Lee and Revy as unbalanced as I could. After all, Revy would probably take to parenting the same way a fish takes to deserts. How do you guys like Lee so far? More of her, less of her, same of her?

Let me know with a review. PM me any theories you'd like to discuss with me and any ideas or places you think I should go.

Until next time, did the girl say anything {she only wept as the wall crumbled}


	6. Chapter 6

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter VI: Toulon

The wind swept steppes of Central Asia spanned around me. This was an ancient land. Its history was ancient, reaching back to the time when man used it as a staging area to begin its conquest of the rest of the planet but now was little more than a post-communist backwater surrounded by wannabe superpowers, the War on Terror, and economic uncertainty.

I never liked this part of the world. The weather was finicky, the people distrusting after years of oppression, and I didn't care for the food. But it was a good place to lay low and a place where I could easily dictate terms. Such was the life of a black-ops soldier. Well that's what I was before I deserted.

Uncle Sam knew me as Slade Wilson, US Army Colonel that served multiple tours in the first Gulf War as well as the next one and Afghanistan. But the CIA knew me as Operative DS13. I was one of the Spooks that not even the President was privy to.

My unit was primarily responsible of gathering intelligence on and elimination of low visibility high priority targets. They were the people you never really heard of but still presented a threat to national security. We also were sent in to bring local warlords to our cause, with no limit on means. It was quite the experience. We tracked people and escaped pursuers in the wildest locations all over the globe. Our ultimate goals were to destabilize countries and protect nation interests.

That was years ago. Eventually I was pulled back into the regular forces, given a new rank and shipped off to Afghanistan under a gag order. They might as well have sent me back into the civilian sector. Collateral damage, civilian casualties, budgets? I hadn't needed to worry those things since the mid-eighties.

I did my job to the best of my abilities. After a year out there, I was done. I wanted out and when the opportunity arose about two years I broke off. It took me two years to figure out my next move. I traveled to many places I went in my youth. We hadn't done anything to improve their lives or even keep America safe.

The things we did…the world needed to know.

I'd make Langley unveil their dirty laundry list. It was a decades' long list that would utterly ruin the United States' reputation, probably beyond repair. It was a small price to pay for the truth.

Firstly, I needed some assistance. I sent a call to my old handler to meet me at an old Soviet airbase in eastern Kyrgyzstan. It took me a few days to get there after I left India. I found my friends murdered after trying to repair their lives. That made me the last one left.

They'd be after me next. Who they were exactly was hard to say. Just because I operated in the shadows doesn't mean I knew everything that happened. Our unit could have just been one of a dozen or so more covert forces. They were out there and they wanted me dead, like every other person I've ever met.

My brown leather jacket did little to protect me from the occasional bitter gusts of wind that ruffled my grey hair. A pair of sunglasses protected me from the dust. I looked pretty odd with them and my eye patch.

A plane was coming in from the west. I felt my heart skip a little. I hadn't seen her in ten years. It landed about forty meters from me. I adjusted my coat and approached. A dozen soldiers ran out of the plane and aimed assault rifles at me. Shock of all shocks, my call was intercepted.

I raised my hands over my head. At the top of the plane was an African-American woman. She was long past her prime, a once lean figure expanded by years of office work and stress.

The woman walked towards me. "You have some balls, Wilson," she said as we reached each other.

"Would you have it any other way, Amanda?" I greeted.

Amanda Waller was once one of the best field leaders I ever served under. She was the savviest woman to ever work for the United States. I had seen her strong arm bureaucrats all over the world with nothing but natural menace and vigor, reinforced with the very real threat of an unlisted black-ops team.

Those glory days were now behind her and me. She was now some advisor to the Senate Foreigner Relations Committee. All she had accomplished was sealed away in some government vault left to gather dust, leaving only memories she could discus tell anyone.

"You know what they're going to do to you right?" Amanda asked me.

"Put a bag over my head, march me out a few hundred meters, dig a ditch, and blow my brains out," I coldly stated. Amanda remained unmoved by my morbid prediction.

"No matter what you do here Slade, we both know you can't win," she retorted.

"Someone has to tell the world what we've done. Even if I fail, the damage I do will force the government to admit the truth," I retorted.

"Do you think you're being a hero?" she asked.

"I was never a hero, no matter what you or any other spook told me."

Amanda shook her head. She simply stepped aside and I popped out a couple of flashbang grenade, tossing them at the soldiers. They were encased in a white smoke.

I pulled out a pair of pistols from my hidden hip holsters and gunned them down. They fell to the ground. "I'd get out of here soon. Gets pretty cold at night around here," I said as I stepped over the bleeding bodies.

Amanda pulled out a satellite phone. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"To visit Dorothy," I cryptically retorted. Amanda's eyes widened. I boarded the plane and dispatched the crew. In a lull of the wind I took off for Myanmar, it was the first leg of my journey.

It was up to Amanda whether or not to tell her overseers what I planned on doing. I went to where Amanda had sat on the plain, marked by an old field signal: a left hand glove placed on the seat. Merely follow the index finger and there it was. The file I had asked her for.

She must have called in a lot of favors for this one. It was a list of every assassination carried out unofficially by the United States over the last twenty years, listed as "beneficial accidents."

Several of the names I had taken out myself. But there were dozens more that even I didn't recognize, giving credence to my belief that there were other units like mine out there.

It was time to show the world just how much America values its allies.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Wow four perspectives in six chapters. Pretty cool huh?

Quick lesson on comics for anyone not in the know: Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke the Terminator (What a name, incredibly cheesy yet also freaking terrifying) was originally a Teen Titans villain made in 1980. More recently you've probably seen him in _Young Justice_, the animated _Teen Titans_, the game _Injustice_, and a weird version in _Arrow_ (I haven't watch arrow yet, but he is apparently in there). I will just say this: I like Deathstroke. He knows what he wants and isn't concerned about the means to get it. Chaotic Neutral at its most cynical.

Much like I like I chose _Black Lagoon_ to throw at _The Dark Knight_, bringing Deathstroke as an antagonist is workable in the world of the Nolanverse. He is smart, athletic, and morally ambiguous at best and his power is increased regeneration, which can be ignored or modified.

This was a pretty basic chapter, introducing a new character and his deal. But, at least we're out of the first act! Woot! Wait that means I have to start explaining shit...

No it's good, I planned this out.

Let me know what you think with a review. PM me any theories you'd like to discuss with me and any ideas or places you think I should go.

Until next time, why did she weep at the wall {because she knew that this was her end}


	7. Chapter 7

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter VII: The Dark Masters

I felt every inch of my body pour sweat by the bucket. My heart was about to burst out of my chest. The air seemed to crush me underneath its weight.

I entered the back. There was a man with dark matted hair that reached down to his shoulders. A thick beard covered his face. He was wearing the local attire. His build was far thicker than anyone I had seen in a while.

The man was kneading dough with fingers that looked horribly disfigured like they had not healing properly after a terrible accident. But his eyes seemed sharp. Tired but not unfocused.

"So you're looking for Bruce Wayne?" The man asked in rusty English. I nodded. The man he seemed familiar.

"Why are you looking for Wayne?" the man asked.

"Because he's Batman," I said.

"That's quite the claim," the man commented as he placed the dough into an oven.

"It's true and I need to speak with him."

The man picked up a cane and hobbled over to me. "Well I'm sad to say that Mr. Wayne has been dead for a while now," the man mumbled. For someone who looked so young he was rather old.

He made it back over the oven. His eyes stared into flames. I shook my head. "You're him aren't you?" I asked.

"_Was. _But now I must ask what you are doing interrupting my new life, Mr. Blake," he said. I took a step back. "I never thought you'd actually make it here," he added.

"How...how do you know who I am?" I stammered out. The man shook his head.

"I may be far from the action, but I occasionally get a visitor out here. He keeps me informed. He told me about you, about your search for Batman," he said. "You've come far so I will not rebuff you. Ask your questions and then leave me and my family be."

Family? The woman and the kids? I let out a sigh. "Why didn't you come back? You clearly escaped. Surely you could have gotten a flight out of here," I asked.

Wayne raised his hands. He spread his fingers as best he could. His fingers jutted out at awkward angles. I tried not cringe at the sight.

"The Russians tortured me. For two weeks they beat my body into a mangled wreck. By the time I was busted out, I was of no use to Gotham and I could no longer be Batman."

"But why hide? Why not go back?" I asked. Wayne shook his head.

"After everything was said and done, I had nothing left. Bruce Wayne was alone and Batman was unable to continue. What was the point?"

"So you quit?"

Wayne turned around. There was anger in his eyes. "I gave everything to that city and now I am a man in his thirties reduced to walking with a cane and has to have his meals served as though he were a child!" He shouted. "I would have died for that city, and even that's been taken from me!"

"Now get out," he growled. No, I had come to far too leave empty handed. Something, I need something. I dropped to my knees.

"Train me," I said. Wayne's expression soften.

"Why?" He asked.

Why? Why! Did he really just ask that?

"Because Gotham needs Batman! Now more than ever! Please, I will take your place as Batman. Please train me," I begged. Wayne cocked an eyebrow. He got up and hobbled past me to the front of the shop and out to the front. I followed him. The morning mist had lifted, revealing the true majesty of the scenery. Wayne pointed at a nearby mountain.

"Atop that mountain is a rare purple flower. Bring one back in good shape and I will consider you for training," he declared.

I didn't waste any time. I reached the base of the mountain before noon and started climbing. The mountain started off with steep winding paths.

A simple loss of my footing cost me several dozen yards. The dirt and mud smeared all over my clothing. It was going to take more than that to slow me down!

The trail ended at a beautiful vista overlooking the village. A scene made even more beautiful by the setting sun. Crap!

I looked around for a path up to the top. There was nothing that led up save a few places where the rain water had carved a path as it ran down the mountain. The fading light forced me to pick a path.

The ditch wasn't easy to traverse. Parts of it were made better by exposed tree roots. I used those as ropes to assist me up. Occasionally the root I was using would give and I had to act fast. Usually I jumped to the nearest root or dug into the mud and prayed to get a hold.

The sun had been down an hour by the time I made it up to the very top. There was a serene pond at the center of it with simple stone shrine built on its shore. Around the pond were several purple flowers, illuminated by the moonlight.

A cool breeze meandered through the trees, making the flowers dance to a primal, inaudible beat. The grass swayed to and fro, creating a shifting dance floor for the flowers. The rustling leaves sent a calming chill down my back.

I approached the surreal scene and picked the sturdiest flower I could find. I carefully began my decent back down the mountain. It was a far more treacherous than going up. One slip up and I would have to go back up.

No sooner had those words crossed my mind than I fell down the trench. My flower was ruined. I took the arduous climb again, root by root and step by step.

I again plucked a flower and started down only to suffer a similar fate as my first attempt. But on the third attempt the sun had risen as I reached the bottom of the mountain.

My clothes were covered in muck and grime but I had the damn flower. A feeling of pride and victory flooded my veins. I marched right into town, ignoring everyone on the street. I entered the bakery to find Bruce and the woman from the other day setting up the shop. The children were again playing.

The woman gave me a vicious stare as I entered the establishment. I unceremoniously handed the flower to Wayne. He took it and examined it. I think I honestly surprised him.

Wayne called the little girl over in the local language. The girl happily approached. Wayne carefully placed the flower in her hair. He then kissed the top of her head and sent her off.

Had I just been an errand boy? I shouldn't be rash or impatient. I had sprung this on him. Being petulant wouldn't help.

I waited patiently for Wayne to make his decision. He whispered with the woman for a minute. Wayne then walked over to me, leaning heavily on his cane. "I have one final test for you," he said.

Don't yell, don't be a jerk. Do as he says and I'd show him my mettle. I reminded myself of that over and over and over again.

We walked down far from the village into a valley. The sounds of the jungles returned to my ears. I kept pace with Wayne, keeping at least a step behind him. No words were exchanged between us. The sun was starting to burst over the land.

The path led up to a large cave. Wayne sat down on a nearby rock. "Do you know why I picked the bat as my symbol?" Wayne asked me. I stared into the gaping maw that was the mouth of the cave.

"Um, because bats are scary creatures of the night," I answered. I heard alien chirping in the distance.

"Indeed. When I was a boy, I was terrified of them. My fear…cost me," Wayne choked out. "But when I was older I learned to harness that fear, to share it with those who would do harm to the innocent."

I nodded. "Being Batman isn't just donning a cape and cowl, Mr. Blake. It is about serving the people. You must be willing to lay down your reputation and your life in their name," he continued. "So, do you think you're ready to be Batman?"

"Yes. I will be Batman," I said. A great gust fell upon me. I was swarmed by thousands upon thousands of bats. Their leathery wings and nipping jaws fell upon my body.

I felt my heart beat wildly as the creatures of the night swarmed by me. I wanted to fall to my knees. I wanted curl up into a ball on the ground. I raised my arms out instead. My body felt as though I were flying with them into the cave, into the darkness where I was to dwell. But as I rose I felt trapped, confined with the cave walls.

The last of the bats retreated into the cave after minutes. I turned to Wayne. He just nodded in approval. "Very well, I will train you."

Thus began my training. Wayne, while physically unable to do much, was an able teacher. I had learned quite a bit in just three days. Fighting, stealth, investigation, all his skills laid bare. Slowly I had begun to grasp them.

On my fourth night sleeping in the bakery's attic, another stranger walked in. I lay still and silent and listened. Wayne was talking to the man, whose voice I recognized! It was my contact from Gotham. I tried to get a view of him but again his face was hidden in shadows. So he was responsible for getting Wayne out.

"Wilson's on the move, he stole a government plane in central Asia and is moving southeast," my contact said.

"You haven't figured out his plan?" Wayne concernedly asked.

"Wilson barely exists on the record. Without a more solid profile, I can't predict his moves with a great deal of accuracy. The only tidbit I got was from Ms. Waller's report which simply said he was off to 'visit Dorothy.' It's vague, but I'm pulling some strings to get more information," my contact curtly replied.

"Blake won't be ready in time if Slade moves too early," Wayne said.

"I know, now I must be off. My flight is leaving tomorrow afternoon and it is a long way."

My contact left. My head now swirled with this information. Who was this Slade Wilson? Who was Dorothy? Was I the one to stop him? The questions burned throughout the next day's training.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: This is just a personal preference but I've never liked the idea of a Robin taking over for Batman. None of them have the same drive to match Batman. Think about it.

Dick Grayson got justice for his parents so he's in the fight for the sake of good. Jason Todd is insane (and an antihero for some reason). Tim Drake and Carrie Kelly signed on _specifically to be_ Robin. Stephanie Brown...sucked because the writers didn't respect her. And Damian Wayne thinks he is simply entitled to it. Maybe I'm over simplifying, but I never see the Robins as true successors to Batman. They usually gain something that Bruce Wayne has never gotten.

That's why I like _Batman Beyond_. Terry McGinnis simply takes up the mantel under the guidance of Bruce Wayne not as a sidekick, but as a superhero. And yes I know about that time Dick and Damian teamed up when Bruce was gallivanting through time, didn't care for it.

Back to actual important things like my thoughts about what I wrote. Among the interesting things I've found studying Christianity is the ritual of baptism. Something about the idea of accepting a "higher truth" and being reborn by it appeals to me as a writer. Read into that what you will.

Did anyone else get an _Empire Strikes Back_ vibe? And what's the deal with the Question?

On a side note, because I forgot this last time: Slade chapters will be marked by famous battles that might have thematic ties to the chapter. If you aren't sure about the title, Google it. I'm not here to explain my every stylistic choice out right. Feel free to ask me in a review though, or PM them to me along with any ideas you have or places you think I should go.

Until next time, now I cannot recall her face or what she said {only that now there is a god}


	8. Chapter 8

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter VIII: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Useless. Fucking, fucking, _fucking_ useless. By the looks of it, Rock wasn't to be seen in Port Moresby. We were sailing back to Jakarta in the hopes of finding a new trail.

I was storming around the bow. Lee was sitting by the wheel as Benny took his turn at the wheel. The girl was looking at that damn picture she defaulted to stare at whenever I was losing it.

It was an old picture of me and Rock after a job. I don't even remember which one. It was a pretty good picture too. I looked like shit with a black eye and some bandages Rock was covered in a layer of sweat and on the verge passing out.

I wasn't sure what we'd find back in Jakarta. My mind drifted back to the man in the Alley. Lee said it was her father.

There was no way. He moved with a level of confidence that Rock never had. I gave a tug on my now shorter hair.

Where the fuck was he? I had been all over the place looking for him. Maybe he went back back to Japan. That idea fell over pretty quickly. Rock was too far gone to simply go back to civilization.

Jakarta was back in site.

I hadn't been to India yet. That didn't make sense because of all the reports of him over here. Fuck! I see why he did all those freaking wall doodles. He'd have gone insane keeping all that shit in his head.

We made it just in time for lunch. Benny took us to a place he heard about. Lee and I picked through what we liked.

"Where is he Benny?" I asked as I kicked the street. Lee went out in front of us. We were nearing a major intersection.

Not that there was much of an answer the blonde could give. "He's not infallible, Revy. He'll have to make a mistake at some point and we'll be there when he does," he calmly said. Actually, that was a pretty good one.

Lee ran into a man at the stop walk. I grumbled a bit as he turned around. This could get ugly. He was an older white dude with an eyepatch. Probably another 'nam vet that decided to stick around.

The man helped Lee to her feet. "I think your parents are here," he said. His hand pointed at me and Benny. Lee turned around and ran back to Benny.

"You have a very pretty daughter. I'd keep a better eye on her," he said. Damn it, why did he softball it in like that?

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled. Wait! "Have I seen you before?" I asked.

"It's probable. I drift from place to place," the man claimed. No, I saw him in a picture somewhere. Oh hell yes.

I nodded and grabbed Benny and Lee. I dragged them back onto a side street. My grasp left Lee's limb then gripped Benny's collar.

"Do you know who that is," I excitedly hissed.

Benny cocked his head to the side in contemplation. "It looks kind of familiar," he admitted.

"That's _Colonel_ Slade Wilson. He deserted the American Army a couple years ago," I said. Benny was unimpressed with the revelation.

"Do you have a point, Revy? I keep a good eye on the bounty lists and that name has never popped up."

"Use your imagination. If we have him, the Feds will want him and we'll give him to them for a nice finder's fee," I insisted.

"Why would we do that? Financially we're fine. You were surprisingly restrained while you were gone and I supplemented from Lee and myself."

"Yeah but maybe we can get a fix on Rock," I said.

Benny rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You want kidnap a guy off the street, assuming that he is the man you're looking for, and sell him to the American government for information on a man they probably never heard of?" he grumbled. Well when it's put like that. "Ah fuck, go for it. I'll take Lee back to the ship. If you catch him, we'll keep him in the hold."

Hell yeah. I smirked and nodded. Benny walked away with Lee. I checked my pistols under my vest.

Back on the street, Wilson was crossing the street. I rushed to catch up. It was on. I just needed to find the right spot.

Jakarta was busy that afternoon. I pursued the soldier for thirty minutes down the street. He might have caught on to me as he started to subtly weave through the crowd. Our steps fell in line to the rhythm of the hunt.

I forged ahead, zeroing in on him. Slade kept to main straits. He never wavered but took every opportunity to try and lose me. Each time I reestablished the trail. Sooner or later he'd make a mistake.

Come on.

Come on.

_Come on_!

Perfect. He went down an empty side street. Let's do this.

I rushed up to him, placing the barrel of my pistol against the back of his head. He calmly raised his hands into the air.

"Do you really think this is wise girl?" Slade coldly asked.

"I'm an in-the-now kind of gal," I growled in retort. I cocked the pistol.

"No doubt. But I'm curious: what makes you think that you can take me?"

"The fact that you're going to be my one way ticket to finding someone very important."

Slade chuckled. He became a blur of motion. His hand now gripped the cutlass. I didn't feel him rip it out of my hand. My lower jaw tingled then stung. I slammed to the pavement.

What the hell? I went toe to toe with freaking Batman and this old codger set me on my ass! Was I that out of shape? I popped up. Slade was unimpressed to say the least.

"I think you're a little over your head girl," Slade calmly said. I raised my fists. This was going to be fun. I started a quick jab.

Slade caught my fist. I tried not to grimace as he crushed my hand. I resorted to some kicks. The man loosened his grip just enough for me to break free and deliverer a cross arm with my other fist.

I rolled out of the way, picking up my weapon off the ground. It took Slade by surprise. My grip was firm. My sights aimed right at him.

"Listen up old timer; you're going to come quietly," I hissed.

"I'm sorry girl but I have business elsewhere. I don't want to kill you, so please don't make me."

We started circling. Blood was pumping overtime in my heart. I couldn't remember the last decent fight I had. Sure I was fighting an old guy, but he was a skilled army veteran.

Slade moved in a liquid manner and I was once again on the ground. Now Slade, no, no it wasn't Slade at all!

Batman was on top of me, his fist raised up. His demonic mask staring into me. That was impossible! The Russians, Rock, no!

No!

Oh fuck!

"Revy, Revy. Okay Lee, give her a kiss," I heard someone say from beyond the black haze of my mind. I sprang up, breathing heavily.

Lee and Benny were standing over me in my room. "Damn it! The bastard got away didn't he?" I muttered. Benny shook his head with a frown. He sat down at the end of my bed.

"I knew this would happen," Benny commented.

"What?" I growled.

"Let's face it Revy, since your fight with the Batman you haven't been the same."

"Bullshit, I just wiped the floor with some losers the other day in Roanapur," I said.

"Yeah, untrained, probably desperate and starving losers in the middle of a war zone, truly a testament to your prowess."

"Do you have a point?"

"My point is, you've been out of the action for too long and that fight with the Batman might have messed with your head. I mean the way you kept muttering Wayne in your sleep I thought you were actually after him."

"So what? You want me to quit and settle down with the girl and be all happy family time with her?"

"I'm saying pick your battles. You're not as young as you used to be and this lifestyle is starting to catch up, whether you know it or not."

Fuck, he was right. My body was starting to hurt just a little bit more every day. Drinking dulled it a bit, but was also dulling my mind.

"I…I just want to find Rock, alright. After that, I don't know," I started to repeat.

Benny grabbed my shoulder. "I'll probably regret this, but I know where he's going to be," he said. I perked up.

"How, why? Where?" I barked. I grabbed Benny's collar.

"He's going to be in Sydney, Australia in a few days," he quietly said.

"How do _you_ know that?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

Since when did Benny become a secret keeper? "Fine, we'll head out tomorrow. But I swear if he ain't there Benny, you're going end up shark chow. Got it, _mate_?" I said. The man nodded.

I tried to stand up but felt a rush of pain come up my legs. That lead was it. If I didn't find Rock, it might as well be the end of me.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Hi all. We're back. I was off setting up my pet project, _Project: Life Spark, _with the first couple of chapters of _The Serial Experiment._ Go ahead and check that out if you're up to it. I'm trying to make it as friendly as possible to people unfamiliar with the source material so don't be scared. So if you like this, you should go read it.

Not to worry, _Knighthood_ is starting to get interesting and is still a priority. So Revy has a meet up with Slade. That didn't go so well for her. But now the trio is off to the Land Down Under (where women glow and men plunder).

Next time the secret history of The Question or a random cut back to Dutch. Because that makes perfect sense.

Until next time, then what is a god {that which is always present and always knowing}


	9. Chapter 9

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter IX: Modus Operandi

Singapore, a modern day city state built on tradition, trade, and technology. I had been to the place a few times since I saved Batman some four years ago. That's when my story really began. I believed the world didn't need a Batman. Then I saw the problems arising in the new heroes popping up.

The world needed Batman. But Bruce Wayne was a broken man. Spiritually and physically, the Russian gangsters destroyed him. They brought him to Roanapur in the hopes of extorting a ransom out of him. I knew he couldn't be fixed. Even if his soul was healed, there was nothing modern medicine could do to get him in shape to fight.

However I wasn't going to let such a valuable resource waste away. The old Batman was dead, but a new one could be built. The escape I organized to put that plan in motion was topnotch. In fact that is where the persona of The Question first came into being. However I didn't intend for Balalaika's crusade to retrieve him to get so out of hand. The match I lit was still burning. It pained me to think that I did that, but at the same time I was glad.

I hid Wayne deep in the rural countryside of Thailand. As it turned out that a man like Wayne could fall in love. He was a family man now with two children.

Not long after I hid the man, I went down to Singapore to meet Lucius Fox after Wayne arranged it for me. We discussed the future of Wayne Enterprises. He maintained his current role and I was made the custodian of the Wayne fortune, giving me access to plenty of funds to work into my plans. It was also a good way to make Wayne seem alive and thus keep the Russians guessing.

It was on that trip where fortune smiled on me. I met a lovely young reporter named Lois Lane who was on assignment for work. She was ambitious and on the hunt for the best stories. It was through her that I was able to build my network with other heroes and gain access to certain classified files via her past as an army brat.

Our first meeting was rather peculiar. I wisely sat behind her while waiting at an airport gate. She became convinced from some of the stories I had gathered in Roanapur for her to print. Lane also liked my dream of a unified league of heroes. Of course she was suspicious of my anonymity but eventually accepted it.

Lane was the one who brought Slade to my attention with one of her articles. He became the focal point of my activities. He was a threat to global security and a good test for the next Batman. A bit twisted to just let him be perhaps, but worst case scenario I'd thwart him before something major went down.

Singapore had become the preferred meeting spot for me and Lane. The city had lots of travelers passing through from all over the world to hide amongst, enough seclusion to pass certain documents, and a surprisingly bribable police force.

This time we were meeting in a dingy restaurant near the port. It was a place where you were paying for digression than the food. I arrived first, shielding my face as best I could. The fedora helped, casting shadows over my features. I placed my order before Lane arrived. She was dressed in her usual violet skirt and blouse outfit.

Her purse was rather large. That was a good sign. She probably got more than I asked for, though she'd probably use it to get a favor out of me.

Lane took a seat in the booth behind me, sitting so that we faced away from each other. "You know Q; you must be one ugly guy. It's the only reason you still hide your face every time we meet," she greeted in her usual dry, droll manner.

"You enjoy it, Lane. An international man of mystery, the exotic locations, it must beat sitting in Metropolis all the time waiting for something to happen," I retorted. Lane set her purse between us.

I nonchalantly reached down and plucked the files from her bag. "This was a big one Q. I had to call nearly everyone I know on the inside to get them. Turns out Slade was far more than you thought," Lane said.

I began to look through them. First was Project Barca. There was a list of subjects and staff. Chief among those was Slade Wilson as subject thirteen under the command of one Amanda Waller. What followed was a list of procedures, targets, and missions carried out under the project's directives.

The experiments done on the men and women in the Project accomplished very little. But the pictures were gruesome, many displaying the charred remains of failures. They stopped by the mid-eighties. Most of the names on the list of targets I didn't know. I would have to look into them later. The missions they carried out eliminated many of the names on the previous list. As I read the After Action Reports, I began to see the connections.

Project Barca wasn't a super soldier program as I originally thought. It was a political engineering unit staffed by the best of the best the American machine could produce. Their work ultimately destabilized and undermined dozens of legitimately elected governments and several dictators all over the world. Out of the artificially induced chaos rose a few pro-American governments. Slade Wilson came up a lot in those reports. He became more of a hit man than a soldier with each occurrence. But it gave me a firsthand look at his M.O.

He was ruthless and efficient, and he was starting to turn those skills towards the rest of the world. I moved on to the next few files. They were planed operations under Project Barca that were never carried out.

"There was one missing," Lane muttered. That caught my attention. "Some of those files reference an Operation Wizard. But none of my contacts knows what it's about or where it is, let alone who took it."

I ran through the files. All references to Operation Wizard were in files that pertained to the allies of the United States, calling to the similarities of parliamentary democracies and ways of taking them down. Waller must have gotten it for Wilson or Wilson straight up stole it. Either way, that psycho must have it. But what could it be? He was heading southeast, to visit Dorothy, and my god.

"Are there any big events going on Australia soon?" I quietly asked.

"I think Oz-con's next week," Lane mused. "I was thinking of going as Captain Marvel, but I was never a good blonde."

"No, something political!" I hissed.

"Relax Q, I know what you meant. The ruling party is meeting in Sydney to discuss their platform for next year's general election at the start of next month," Lane said.

Fuck!

I stuffed the files into my coat and dropped another file into Lane's bag. "Here's the information on Luthor's activities out here. Not pretty I have to say," I said.

"Come on Q, I want a something a little bigger than Lexi's latest criminal charge for this one," she said. I pulled out yet another file and discreetly placed it inside her bag.

"Very well, here's Dailo Chang's list of new ventures in America. Go crazy," I whispered.

Lane took it out and skimmed over it. She replaced it. "You're good Q. But I want to meet him," she demanded. I sighed.

"You know I can't do that."

"Oh come on; just hide his face in shadow or something. You're good at that."

"It's not just him anymore."

"So you got your long awaited heir has finally shown up, has he…or she?"

"Drop it Lane."

"Fine, where do you get this stuff, anyway?" she asked.

"You're not my only contact Lane," I bluntly reminded her. "One of my best, but still one of many."

"I bet you don't treat them to such nice dates," she replied as the waiter arrived with our meals. "I mean what girl doesn't dream of meeting up with such an eccentric gentleman in a dingy dive in Southeast Asia or chatting with a faceless guy in a train station in Eastern Europe."

"Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Ms. Lane."

"Speaking of sarcasm, Green Arrow also says to go to hell. He's still not a fan of your global initiative."

I respected Arrow for his dedication to the classic vigilante way. But if the fate of Batman was any sign, it was that we needed to organize in a way to protect ourselves. My league idea was a simple, limited interference measure. In exchange for obeying a few league directives and a unifying creed, a hero would gain access to a pool of resources such as criminal databases and technology as well as back up. There were downsides, but we could do far more good as a group than individuals.

I wasn't asking for secret identities. Not that it took me long to figure most out.

"That's why I want him on board. We need a skeptic to see the flaws," I replied.

"Look Q, I'll help you fight the good fight, but if and when this league of yours comes to fruition: I want nothing to do with it. I'll give you tip or two every now and again for old time's sake. That's all," Lane quietly declared. Well that made two of us. Lane was a much better reporter, and more useful on the outside.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Tell Arrow that he still has an open invitation," I said.

Lane groaned a bit. "Sometimes I feel more like your mailwoman than your informant. When are you getting those communicators you promised?" she asked.

"Oracle is working as fast as she can," I assured her. We quickly finished our meals in silence after that.

I paid after Lane and left a few minutes. I walked around the pier. My phone rang. One of my first contacts in the area was calling.

"Yeah?"

"I figured."

"He's heading for Sydney. I'm pretty sure he's got something big in store."

"I doubt Blake will be ready in time."

"Well that's why I'm checking before I go."

"Stay clear of there for the next couple of weeks. I don't want you to introduce an unstable element."

"You're right. I'll send someone in beforehand."

"Who's around there?"

"Is he really? Good to know. Thanks, bye."

I closed my phone. So, Slade was in Jakarta. He was getting close. Fortunately code name: Stone was closer. Stone was my first real contact. Without him, I'd never have bothered attempting a rescue of Batman.

He was in New Zealand now of all places. He was usually scurrying around the South China see. I dialed his phone number.

"Hey, I need a favor."

"No, nothing dangerous. Promise."

"I need you to scout out a few places in Sydney for me."

"I'll comp you, don't worry."

"Alright, I send you the info when you get there. See you in Sydney."

Why was Slade targeting Australia? Was he going to send a message? Was he fulfilling some sick preprogrammed instruction? The question was known and the answer eluded me.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, good news/bad news time people. The bad news is, this might be the last _Knighthood_ chapter of the year. _Might_ being the operating term, seeing as I'm shifting focus to _Project: Life Spark_ for December. The good news is, if someone gives a solid review of _The Serial Experiment_ and they politely ask for chapter ten as a Christmas present at the end of it, I'll happily oblige and try to have it done for the twenty-fifth. This rule doesn't apply to demonicDRAMAqueen (but you can still leave a review because I'd be sad otherwise). I appreciate your patronage and your friendship girl, but let's have some of my other fans participate okay. Besides, you'll probably badger me into doing it anyway.

Today we meet Lois Lane. I feel like Lois gets a bad wrap nowadays as a damsel in distress. Which is fair I suppose. However I loved the Lois Lane on the nineties _Superman _animated series and _Justice League_. Her predicaments were mostly self-inflicted due to her ambitious, almost workaholic nature, but she never came off as some feminist straw (wo?)man trying to out do all the boys.

Back on topic, more of The Question and his intrigue. The pieces are starting to come together for a show down in the Land Down Under (where beer does flow and men chunder). Sorry, sorry. It's just such a catchy song damn it! It's interesting to see his influence in action. It raises a question about what his real motivations are for creating a league of heroes, if you were to ask me that is.

Also I've never been a fan of a truly organized team of superheroes. Don't get me wrong, it can work really well. But I like the idea of a confederation (not _that_ one) of heroes more and you just don't see that. I also think that in a world without superpowers, it is a better structure.

Until next time, can man make such a being {we did at the foot of the ruined wall}


	10. Chapter 10

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter X: Into the Void

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus. The darkness isn't a handicap.

Sweat dripped down my face. I felt it coldly crawl along my skin. A gentle breeze kissed the top of my freshly trimmed hair, sending a relaxing chill down my spine. The air rapidly shifted.

Sweep from my right. Dodge into it.

High strike. Avoid left.

Low strike. Avoid ri—pain! So much pain!

A rush of agony fell over my abdomen. I dropped to my knees. A groan wanted come out. But I wasn't about to give into it. I had to keep going.

I reaffirmed my stance, digging my feet into the loamy dirt. Come on!

"Stop," Wayne said from somewhere beyond the void. I ripped off my blindfold. Cassandra was standing in front of me with a stick of bamboo almost as long as she was tall. She quickly retracted the faux-blade, bringing it to her hip.

Cassandra was Wayne's daughter and oldest child. Her cold black eyes and tight hair bun clashed with her still very childish features. She had spoken very little to me, even after volunteering to assist. It was like I couldn't escape Mai, his wife. Wayne himself was standing behind her.

The man had come alive in the weeks I had been here. He started walking around Cassandra to me. His feet shuffled a bit having little need for the aid of a cane anymore. Still he was hunched over, hands clasped behind his back.

Never once did I comment on his condition. If things went according to plan, I doubt I'd be in that good of shape. Each step he took shifted the dirt around the inside of cave. It was cooler than practicing directly outside.

We had to practice in the afternoon because our mornings were spent working the shop. I quickly learned to help. Wayne wasn't charging rent or even told me help.

"You were unfocused," Wayne continued.

"I was totally in the zone; I just misjudged which way she was…"

Wayne cut me off with a quick wave of his hand and a flurry of Thai directed at Cassandra. I had picked up a bit of the language in my time here. Not enough for solid conversation, but enough to brace self for another low strike.

Cassandra preformed another low strike. I quickly jumped out of the way. Her strike missed me by a hair.

"What's the point of all this anyway? I haven't fought stick wielding crooks before, and I doubt I ever will," I grumbled. Complaining wasn't going to get me far but I had to say something before I went insane.

"_That_ is not your problem, Mr. Blake. You understand the objective better than I did in my training. No there is something deeper," Wayne retorted with a wave of his hand.

He was right. I had been able to think of lately was Slade Wilson. The way my contact spoke with Wayne bothered me. I sighed. "What are you hiding from me?" I asked. I looked down at the man.

Wayne cocked an eyebrow. He barked something in Thai. Cassandra bowed and walked out of the cave. She glared at me for a moment as she passed me. It was a carbon copy of her mother's.

"And what am I hiding from you, Mr. Blake?" Wayne asked.

"Who is Slade Wilson and what is his deal exactly?" I requested.

"You heard the conversation Q and I had?"

"Q?" I asked.

"That's short for his name, the Question," Wayne sarcastically spat. "So, you want to know about Slade Wilson?"

I nodded. "Yeah, what's his deal?" I asked. Wayne opened his mouth.

"Slade Wilson, former U.S. Army officer and Special Forces operative. Defected in Afghanistan two years ago and has recently been making his way across Southeast Asia," a cold, calculated voice echoed around the cave. A man in a trench coat and a fedora was standing at the mouth of the cave. I couldn't make out any major details of his face in the distance and shadows.

"Speak of the devil," Wayne mumbled. "What are you doing back so soon?" he called back to the Question.

The fedora wearing man looked up at the ceiling then took a few steps forward. I noticed he had a flesh colored mask on that covered his features along with dark sunglasses to shield his eyes. "Well I know how much you love having me around so much," he commented.

"I don't know more than two visits in a year? I think you are starting to get attached," Wayne countered.

"Don't flatter yourself Wayne. My visit is actually about our mutual foe," he dryly added.

"You know what he's up to?" I asked. The Question gave a tip of his hat.

"A theory mostly," he corrected. "I came here to see if you're up to the challenge of taking him on, saving the world from chaos. General 'hero' type stuff," he dryly said.

Wayne started walking towards the man. "Well he's not Q," he barked.

The Question lazily scratched is nose. "And what do you think, Mr. Blake?" he asked.

There was no way Wayne was going to let me go. But I wanted more than anything to prove myself as Batman. I had learned more in two weeks than I had in months at the academy. I could move through the trees without being spotted, throw a batarang within centimeters of a bull's-eye, and track a snake through the underbrush. They weren't perfect and I made my share of mistakes but I could still do them. "I'm not sure," I finally said using the most neutral tone I had. The Question nodded. He disinterestedly straightened his tie.

"Well then I won't waste anymore of your time. I have to get going and see if I can mitigate the damage," he sighed. He tipped his hat, turned around, and strode away. Wayne mumbled something under his breath. I noticed the Question slightly brush his hand against a tree, lazily fall to his side, brush over a fern, then slip into his coat pocket. It was all done in just a split second as he entered the path back to town. The subtle gesture was easily missed by an untrained eye, but was entirely deliberate. Everything about it was too mechanical, too methodical.

Wayne turned back around. A sigh escaped his lips. "I take it you don't care for him," he quipped. My master shook his head.

"He has his uses, Mr. Blake. But you shouldn't trust him," Wayne said. I raised an eyebrow.

"And why not?" I countered. Yeah he was a bit odd, but he had only helped me thus far.

"Because men like him are the reason I live here now," he quietly answered.

"What, he's like that Rock guy from Roanapur?" I kind of blurted out.

The older man lightly chuckled with a shake of his head. "Oh, the Question has become far more dangerous than Rock ever was."

"What do you mean?"

A contemplative sigh escaped Wayne's lips. "Rock was…brilliant," he bitterly conceded. "_But_ he was mired by the confusing nature of living in the twilight, only to find himself sunk into the darkness without ever realizing it. The Question is equally sharp and well aware of the nature of twilight; often using the end justifies the means argument to defend his actions."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," I commented. I had been told of the actions he took during the Joker attacks: ignoble perhaps, but necessary. Wayne's hands curled a bit.

"Batman is _not_ a hero, but one who bears the title should never do the wrong thing if there is a better option still available. This means that our struggle is eternal," Wayne philosophized. "Back when I was Batman, I think I knew that fact even though I…"

Wayne paused. I saw his lower lip almost torn off by his teeth. I reached out to grasp his shoulder. He brushed my hand away. "Ultimately as Batman you too must understand these facts. But the Question thinks there is some endgame to be found in the vigilantes of the world teaming up in some super-organization," he bitterly growled.

"Is that so bad?" I asked.

"It is if you are not careful, Blake. He knows that Batman is a powerful symbol that would give credibility and legitimacy to his 'Justice League,'" Wayne said.

"So you think he's using me?"

"Of course he is; it's his M.O. But people like you and Green Arrow have to fight him every step of the way."

I rolled my eyes. "Then why join his little club at all?"

Wayne grabbed my shoulder. He looked into my eye. "Because the world doesn't work like that anymore, I worked alone because I _was_ alone. Not joining his league would be the height of folly on your part. The benefits inevitably out way the drawbacks, however you cannot lose sight of why Batman exists," he said. He poked a scared finger into my chest with every closing syllable.

"To serve Gotham and her people," I finished. Wayne nodded in approval. He released me from his grip.

"I'm heading back for dinner," he said. The older man started shuffling out of the cave.

"I think I'll stick around a bit longer, clear my mind," I said. I gave Wayne a nod and he continued.

Once he was down the path, I walked out to where the Question had performed the strange gesture. Doubt crept in the closer I got. Maybe I had over thought the situation. Maybe I was seeing things.

I started investigating. Hidden in the bush was a note that must have been printed off a computer. It told me that if I wanted to help stop Wilson, to meet a couple miles outside of town on the west road at midnight. I stuffed it in my pocket and started back.

Back in the village, the late afternoon was starting to slink away. Cassandra was playing with Damian, Wayne's young son, outside the bakery. Mai was starting to close up shop. She was complaining to Wayne about something or other. It seemed to be nothing but bitching about the Question.

Her husband assured her that he…wasn't going anywhere. Also that the Question wasn't going to be back for a while. Mai wasn't entirely convinced.

After a frigidly quiet dinner I retreated to my bunk, gathered what I needed, and waited until it was time to leave. I slunk my way down the stairs to the front door at about eleven.

"Is this what you want?" I heard Wayne grumble. I turned around. Wayne was sitting on a chair in the corner. He was staring up at the waxing moon.

"The world needs to know that there is a new Batman, that Gotham once again has a beacon of hope," I stated.

Wayne stood up. "And you think getting killed by Wilson is the best way to do this?" he asked as un-sarcastically.

"I'm not going to die. I'm going to stop Wilson."

"Do you even know what he's planning? His motivation or ideology?" Wayne pushed. He was right.

"No, but if the Question needs help then it is my duty to help him," I answered.

"When you are fully trained, yes; look at yourself now though: you're sloppy and not entirely disciplined. Slade is a trained and experienced killer. He'll wipe the floor with you," Wayne prophesized.

It was a possibility. "I'm not going to sit around and let innocents be hurt if there is something I can do. You said it yourself: one who bears the title should never do the wrong thing if there is a better option still available," I countered.

"But you aren't Batman _yet_," Wayne growled. While some might have seen this as debatable, I agreed with Wayne. But if I didn't follow the principles of Batman now, how could I be expected to follow them when I was dressed in the cape and cowl?

"Then let me show you that I am ready. Let me deal with Slade," I insisted.

Wayne disappointingly shook his head. "Like I could stop you. Go then if you must, but don't expect a hero's welcome when you come back. If you come back at all," he bitterly said.

I left the bakery in a huff. The Question was waiting for me by a jeep parked on the side of the road right where he said he'd be.

He was still in his suit and coat, fedora cocked down. His face was still covered by the flesh-like mask, eyes still hidden by sunglasses.

"I see you got my note," the Question commented. He rubbed his thumb over his fingers a moment before getting into the jeep. I set my things in the back of the vehicle and got it too. The Question sped off into the night.

"What do you know about a man named Rock? He's from Roanapur, knows Wayne," I asked. The Question remained silent. I was about to object to his silence.

"Real name Rokuro Okajima, nickname Rock. Age twenty-seven. From Tokyo, Japan. Former employee of Asahi Industries and the Lagoon Company. Skills: asset acquisition and familiar with several languages. Assisted in my plan to free Wayne form the Russians. Current status: missing, possibly and most likely dead," he rattled off.

"What? Something you don't know," I sarcastically commented.

"I never claimed to know everything and as far as Mr. Okajima is concerned I don't care. I have no more use for him," he said.

"Sounds like you are throwing away a good asset. Doesn't seem like you," I noted.

"After he assisted in Wayne's escape, he disappeared. If I need him again, I'll find him," the Question coldly stated.

We fell silent until we arrived at a small airport. I was instructed to fly to Singapore using a fake passport and identity the Question made for me: Richard Grayson from Gotham City. I then took a flight to Sydney, Australia. From the airport there I instructed to go to an apartment in the city.

I knocked on the door. The Question answered still dressed in his usual manner. Dear god did he own anything else? Wait! How did he get here before me? We split up in Thailand!

"Come on, I've got something to show you," he said. I walked in to find a room with walls covered in maps and whiteboards and things written on the wall. Paper was strewn every which way. It looked rather frantically set up. "I apologize about the mess. Stone took the liberty of setting this up for me before he left and I've been nesting the last couple of hours."

Personally, I thought the Question was always a little crazy. But it was at that moment I realized he might actually be insane. I read what was on the walls. Outcomes, statistics, and doomsday declarations marred them.

The Question lifted up a case and placed it in the only empty space left on the dining table. It was a large case with the Wayne Enterprises' logo on it. The masked man popped it open. Inside was a set of black armor with a blue, bird-like logo on the chest. It was a design very similar to the one on my old jacket.

"I had this cooked up just in case the whole Batman thing didn't work out. I suppose I'm too fond of you to send you back out onto the streets unprotected," he admitted. In a way I was relieved. Wayne was right: I wasn't Batman yet. Going out as Batman would have been a lie, so going out as my old persona was the right thing to do.

Come to think of it, I never gave myself a name. I was too involved in helping people to give it any real thought. I thought that such monikers were frivolous and distracting. Also my complete lack of artistic creativity didn't help.

I started taking the armor out. "It's a special combination of carbon fiber and Kevlar. Be careful though, it is designed for mobility and agility over absorbing a tremendous amount of punishment," the Question stated. I could tell. The pieces barely weighed anything and there was only the torso piece, boots, and bracers all meant to be put on top of a black catsuit.

"Thanks," I said.

The Question nodded. "You're welcome," he said. He walked over to a map of what appeared to be a city square or plaza. "Now, let's get down to business. We don't have a lot of time before the conference starts. I've put together Slade's most probable moves and a designed a few counters for each."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>AN: With this chapter, _Knighthood_ is now my longest story so far, and just one chapter short of the halfway point to boot. Also, _Nightfall_ is almost my most viewed story as well. I know none of you really care that much, but I think it's pretty awesome.

This chapter turned out a little better than I hoped. After all we are just moving pieces to there places. I think I squeezed out a bit more than that from this one. The main problem was finding a way to get Blake and Wayne to part. That ended up working pretty well.

I'm setting up a sort of announcement section on my profile page, there you can see what I'm currently working on, estimated competition time, target publication dates, project reveals, and other tidbits I have for you. Also, I have a poll up on my profile that may be relevant to your interests, so check it out.

I hope that all of you have a safe and happy holiday season, and to those in my audience using the Gregorian Calender: let's kick some ass next year!

Until next time, can it really be a god if we made it {is there a difference between god-like and god at this point}


	11. Chapter 11

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works of Rei Hiroe and Christopher Nolan

All rights belong to the original creators, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc., and Madhouse Inc.

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

A File from _Operation Dusk Hour_...

Chapter XI: Outlaw Torn

I swear to god if Benny told me to be patient one more time, I'd fucking kill him! We'd been in Sydney for two weeks and I hadn't seen him. Oh but Benny kept swearing that he'd show up.

After that I'd storm out of the cabin and onto the streets of the city. The first couple of times I forgot where I was. I hadn't been around a large group of native English speakers, let alone quote-unquote civilized people in years.

They just don't appreciate a good string of expletives in public. Hell they don't even appreciate guns the way I do. In Australia anyway. Say what you will about us Americans, we _love_ our guns.

Benny would have a fit if he knew I had smuggled my Cutlasses under my light jacket. I didn't care. I'd rather have Dutch yank off my fingernails with a pair of old pliers than go out unarmed. Safety statistics be damned.

Tokyo reminded me that so called civilization wasn't free of the dangers of my world. And I wasn't going to make that mistake again.

So I aimlessly wandered the streets with my guns stowed away. Every time I saw a man with a tie on yanked my attention. My hope flowered for a moment then died when I determined it didn't belong to Rock.

I wasn't so lovelorn bitch sniffing out the man of my dreams. Actually as a lover, Rock wasn't great. Or even that good. No…he was pretty bad.

There was something about that night though. Something deeper. In the time leading up to that Rock had grown distant. He spent his time split between his room and the offices of Hotel Moscow. What he was doing there was anyone's guess.

Then one day he came home while I was having a smoke and a drink by the docks, watching the way the light of setting sun danced on the water. He joined me. We sat there well past dusk.

Nothing particularly interesting was shared or revealed. Words were exchanged but nothing gained. It was…pleasant to just talk. I had never had such an alleviating conversation, with its aimless nature.

I don't know what happened next. One of us made a move. Like I said, it wasn't good at all. But there was a…passion behind it. But as we mingled amongst my bed sheets I realized I wasn't sure what was driving that passion. It certainly wasn't romance.

The next morning he was gone. That night he failed to return and the city went even further into hell.

Not long after I was puking all the time. That's when I learned the bastard knocked me up. Benny and Dutch basically chained me to the wall while the brat grew inside of me. Nine months without a smoke or a drink. If that wasn't a human rights violation, I didn't know what was. Pretty soon Dutch brought in a doctor; I got rid of the kid, and stole a boat from the docks.

I spent every moment since then hunting for Rock, trying to figure out what happened, what it all meant. But I never wanted to see Lee. Honestly I never thought about her, my mind focused on Rock. I didn't even know her name for fuck's sake until I came back.

Did I hate her? No, she didn't ask to be born. My only thought now was why did I let her come in to my fucked up world?

I turned to look into a shop window. My reflection stared back at me. Heavy bags under my eyes, hair starting to grow back; I barely recognized myself anymore.

But behind the stress and the hair, I saw Lee. The girl was a suborn brat, I'd give her that. I barely acknowledged her presences and yet she followed me around like I was a god walking the planet, her very existence hanging on my every word.

She had never asked about Rock despite spending all the time she wasn't staring at me on staring at that picture of the two of us. What would I say about him anyway? I couldn't call him an asshole for leaving her at literally the earliest second. Pot meet kettle.

Besides he didn't even know she existed.

Would I tell her that he was a good person or a ruthless mastermind?

That I nearly killed him multiple times when we first met?

What about our relationship? How would I describe it?

I kicked a discarded can as hard as I could. It clattered down the sidewalk a bit. Every time I went there, every time I tried to figure it out, I…I just got angry. I wasn't sure if I that rage was for me, or him, or something else.

Even though I saw a lot of myself in the kid, I saw way more of Rock. Not just in the hair which refused to cooperate on the right side even after I cut it.

Her manner was mild. At dinner she was always polite. She dressed her best even when it seemed impractical. Hell she wore that yellow dress every chance she got. I was convinced that it was made of that shirt I bought Rock when I first met him. At least someone got some use out of the damn thing.

A large crowd had started to grow around me. A nearby clock said it was just after lunch time. I noticed there were quite a lot of cops prowling around.

These weren't the easy pushovers from Roanapur. No these were professionals with an actual budget and proper training. Not the kind of fuckers I would cross alone.

Their presence sent a wave of caution over my body. I wasn't sure why so many were around.

The crowd seemed to grow bigger and bigger. I realized I had entered a large plaza. At the far end was a large stage filled with a bunch of greying old men mixed with a variety of young bloods. Many of the people in the crowd were holding up signs with political leanings.

I had stumbled into some sort of rally. Fuck me. The three things I actively tried to avoid: motivated assholes, police officers, and politicians; all conveniently gathered in one location to screw me over.

Officers were now everywhere, patrolling the perimeter with armed soldiers accompanying them. I never thought the words would cross my mind but I regretted bringing my guns. If shit went down and I got caught, I'd more than likely be off to prison.

I wasn't going to let that happen. I wasn't going to put L...I wasn't going to wait that long to find Rock.

Instinct kicked in and my eyes went up to the nearby buildings. Blended into the windows were sniper perches. It took a while but I counted them out. There were four of them set up but there was a pretty decent blind spot right in the middle.

A wave of static hit me. It was like the calm before the storm. Nobody was that incompetent. Nobody. I turned around and tried to get out of the plaza. I might as well have been stuck in a glacier.

My ears started to ring.

Smoke started to fill the air.

Panicked screams mixed with haze.

Just another fucking day in the office. A stampede erupted. I moved to the side near the edge. The police and soldiers had dispersed into the crowd.

The men and women on the stage were being escorted off to the side. I didn't hear any shots fired or see any of the VIPs drop.

I looked up to where the blind spot started. A man dressed in black combat armor with a dark orange trim was climbing down. He was using the chaos below to hide is escape, I assumed. Well hopefully he was interested in becoming my ticket to a quick buck.

We met up near the center of the plaza. My heart stopped. It was _him_! _Wilson_. His aged face was that of an old soldier, cold and stoic. He paid me no mind, briskly crossing the plaza.

My vision started to blur. Spots of pain erupted in familiar places all over again. Where was I? Gotham? The dock?

No, no, no. I wasn't going to let the past interfere this time! I reached into my jacket just as the old man past. My knees gave out. It took all my energy to keep from collapsing.

The world came back into focus. I looked up to see the man from Jakarta. The man in the coat! He was standing not ten feet away from me! His figure was cloaked in haze but his gaze was aimed directly at me. Though, his eyes were hidden behind an impenetrable pair of sunglasses and a fleshy mask to hide his facial features. He appeared to be talking on an ear piece.

I jumped up to my feet. What the fuck was he doing here? And why was he looking at me so specifically?

The man slowly turned around and started walking away. I followed him down an alley. He wasn't getting away this time. The chase led me into a construction site further downtown. He stopped in the middle of the skeletal framework of a building. He was trapped by the equipment and supplies scattered about.

I pulled my pistols out and joined him, aiming right at the back of his head. "Alright you fucking weirdo, who are you and what the hell are you doing here?" I growled. My thumbs cocked my weapons. The man just started to laugh.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>AN: Hey, I'm back. Again. I know this one is short, but I'm a little busy at the moment. Believe it or not I have a life outside of this. Getting back to school, starting my own original project, charting out other projects for this site, and general new year disorder. I should be back to cranking out chapters pretty soon.

So it is finally coming down, here at the official halfway point. Plans in motion. Chaos in the streets. Good times.

Until next time, it is a thin line {so when does one become the other}


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